


When Green Turns Gold (Arslan Senki Fall Festival)

by kwlosko, princelyarslan (galaxytaos)



Series: Full House AU [1]
Category: Arslan Senki | Heroic Legend of Arslan
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, literally the only reason this is rated t, mild swearing in chapter 2, smols being smols
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 02:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8384596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwlosko/pseuds/kwlosko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxytaos/pseuds/princelyarslan
Summary: Snapshots of two barely-teenaged boys from two completely different backgrounds sharing a mansion with six other people. While trying to hide their feelings for each other. Because there's no way that that could possibly go wrong.





	1. Jump (Leaves)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay okay I promise that we will explain this AU better either later on in this or at another point in the series but all that is important right now
> 
> \- Andragoras put Daryun and Narsus in charge of taking care of Arslan  
> \- Arslan is currently the legal owner of a huge mansion much too big for 3 people  
> \- Things happened  
> \- Now the entire gang (Daryun, Narsus, Arslan, Elam, Gieve, Farangis, Alfreed, Jaswant, and occasionally Etoile) live in said mansion  
> \- One of the two authors has not quite finished the series yet please bear with me
> 
> Hope you enjoy! And... hope the other three I do are better than this really OTL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arslan has never jumped into a pile of leaves before. Elam might be able to fix that.

If Alfreed was trying to be quiet, she was doing a horrible job. The older girl was leaning on the railing of the porch and Elam was a good halfway across the yard, raking away, but he could hear her thoughtful hums much, much too clearly.

“It’s so tempting…” she sighed heavily, slumping so that the wood nearly bisected her at the stomach.

Elam shot her a glare, grip tightening on the metal in his hands as he pushed another little smattering of leaves into the pile. “Don’t even think about it.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and clearly about to comment back at least as harshly when Arslan spoke up at her side, brows knit together. “Wait, what?”

Elam sighed to himself (actually quietly enough that no one else could hear him), going back to work. “Arslan, you can go ahead, but Alfreed, I swear, if you  _ touch _ it…”

He glanced up just to see her pout, straightening up and grasping the railing in order to properly stick her tongue out at him.

And Arslan was still just staring, head tilted just the tiniest bit to the right. “I can go ahead and do what?”

Alfreed hit him on the back hard enough for him to lurch forward a bit, taking a half second to laugh along with her, the sound tentative to the point of making Elam’s grip tighten again. “Jump in the leaves, dumbbutt!”

“Oh!” Arslan laughed a bit more genuinely, shaking his head. “I’ve never done that before…”

Elam paused, blinking dumbly up at him. He supposed that it made sense, with his upbringing, but it had never actually crossed his mind. It seemed so simple, like something that all children got to do… Not that he was a child, himself, of course.

“Aw c’mon, but it’s so fun!” Alfreed hit his back again, but this time he seemed a bit more prepared, not jumping as much. At least she seemed to get along with him well enough. Comparatively. “Elam, let us have a go at it!”

He ducked his head quickly, pointedly focusing on his work and ignoring the soft warmth suddenly filling his cheeks. “No, Alfreed!”

As if she would give in that easily. “Elam, I’m telling Narsus!”

He wasn’t entirely sure when she had gone from amused to annoyed, but off she went, running back into the house and leaving Arslan on the porch all alone. The smaller just watched as Elam worked with a soft smile, seeming perfectly content to just… observe.

And that absolutely did not turn Elam fifteen different shades of red.

Alfreed didn’t come back, though, and soon enough Elam had a nice, neat little pile carefully situated right in front of the big tree in the middle of the yard.

Clearly, he had not planned that at all.

“Oh look.” Elam tried his best to project, looking anywhere but towards the house. He knew that he wasn’t as good of an actor as Narsus, but he hadn’t expected the words to come out quite so painfully stiff. “What a nice, big pile of leaves… Gosh, it sure would be perfect for jumping into…”

Luckily, by the time he looked over, the other boy was already making his way down the steps toward him.

Arslan bounced to a stop beside him, smile soft and  _ warm _ in a way that made Elam’s heart clench and his cheeks heat up. “You should do it, Elam!”

Elam just blinked at him, trying to snap himself back into a state of… well,  _ some _ cognitive processes. “Wait, what?”

Arslan laughed softly, gently nudging his arm. “You should jump! You want to, right?”

It took Elam a moment to process, before he realized his words had been misinterpreted. “No, I-” And that he wasn’t supposed to be showing that he cared, was he? “I mean, uh. Do you want to?”

“Well, yeah!” Though Arslan didn’t look quite as enthusiastically certain as he normally did. “But… I’ll only do it if you do, too!”

And again, Elam found himself staring. “What? Why?”

“Cause I’ve never done it before!” Arslan grabbed his hand, causing Elam to nearly choke on air. “Besides, it’ll be more fun together, right?”

“I… Yes?” Elam’s brain wasn’t quite processing things correctly, it seemed. 

“Great! We just climb up, right?”

A dim nod and a blink and the next thing Elam realized, they were already standing on the lowest sturdy branch of the tree, one hand tightly holding onto the other boy’s.

Leaf piles were fun, sure. But heights made him dizzy, and holding onto his… well,  _ Arslan _ ’s hand didn’t exactly help much.

The smaller shot him a near-blinding smile, squeezing his hand gently, and Elam could hear his blood rushing in his ears, feel the searing heat of embarrassment and worry on his cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Arslan’s smile only wavered a bit, concern edging into his expression, but if it was enough to make him notice at all…

Elam nodded quickly, swallowing hard and managing a halfway stable, “I’m fine!”

“Okay, good!” At least Arslan was never hard to convince. “Ready?”

Another nod, too fast, too tense, too anxious, and Elam’s heart was beating too hard to hear Arslan counting down. He rushed to step off a fraction of a second behind him, head still spinning and gaze unfocused but grip as tight as he could possibly make it without being uncomfortable.

It was a second long fall at best, but it felt so much longer, the scream choked up in the back of his throat warping into tiny, nervous giggling halfway through. The two of them crashed into the pile at the same time, scattering leaves up into the air around them, the rest delicately crunching beneath the sudden weight.

They fell back together, landing half-sprawled and allowing themselves to fall back so they were completely there, hands still gently interlocked between them. And along with Arslan’s, Elam’s nervous giggles slowly turned into something soft and sweet and excited, the smaller gently squeezing his hand between them.

He felt his heart fall when the other’s fingers were pulled away, though, allowing both of them to get up but leaving his skin feeling uncomfortably cold in the chilly air.

So he swallowed thickly, scrambling to his feet. “I’ll, uh, rake them together again so we can…”

Arslan looked genuinely surprised. “Elam, are you sure? You don’t have to!”

Elam just nodded determinedly, cheeks flushing a shade darker as he picked up his rake. “Yeah, um, it’s… it’s really fun, is all.”

It wasn’t as though he could admit that it was all just to hold his hand again.


	2. Under the Covers (Ghosts)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gieve has the genius idea to tell ghost stories before bedtime. It isn't so bad, until Farangis shares her own.

_It'll be fun,_ he said. _It won't be scary, promise._

This was all Gieve's fault.

In fact, if Elam tried hard enough, everything could be Gieve's fault, especially the part where he was hiding under blankets in the dark, completely scared _shitless_.

It all started with Gieve, unsurprisingly. It wasn't even Halloween night yet -- not that it mattered to Gieve -- but it was after dinner where everyone had gathered in the living room when Gieve began insisting on telling ghost stories, a wicked glint in his eye.

Narsus had raised a questioning eyebrow at the suggestion before going back to his reading, uninterested. Daryun had left halfway through, claiming that he'd heard them before. That made Elam, Arslan, and Farangis his only audience, but Gieve was not to be deterred.

To be quite honest, Gieve's stories weren't that scary. It was only with Gieve's storytelling skills, embellishing the creepy tales by imitating various voices and expressions of the characters, that made them interesting to listen to. Though Elam secretly agreed with Daryun that they were kind of common, nothing new that he hadn't heard before, it seemed to be another situation entirely with Arslan, who sat, wide-eyed and riveted, and perhaps a little scared, at Gieve's feet.

"Wait," Farangis interrupted from her seat at the armchair, breaking her ever-present expressionless silence. "I believe I have a story to tell, myself.”

It took a split second for Gieve’s surprise (and slightly confused expression) to turn back to the smarmy charm that he always used with her, too fast for Elam to really think about the sinking feeling in his gut. “Do go on~”

She hummed slightly in thought, looking almost contemplatively at nothing in particular, before her expression sank back into its usual disturbing apathy. “Not very long ago, in a forest rather near here…” 

 

* * *

 

Five minutes later, the three boys were staring in absolute horror, Arslan’s blue eyes blown wide and his hands visibly trembling. Elam wasn’t entirely sure when he had pressed so close to him, but he was infinitely grateful when the elder’s fingers wrapped around his own, his heart beating too rapidly, his head beginning to spin.

Gieve finally broke the silence with a loud, shaky laugh, his eyes clearly uncomfortable as he stood. “Well, that was… fun! Yeah, that was totally fun, um, great story, Farangis! I’m… going to go see if Narsus and Daryun need any… help… with things… Yeah, goodbye!”

He nearly sprinted up the stairs, leaving the younger pair still just _staring_ at the woman sitting across from them.

She blinked innocently, her head tilted to the side in the closest thing Elam had ever seen to an expression of confusion on her face. “I’m sorry, was that story not amusing?”

There was a pause in the air before Arslan offered an answer. “Of course! I’ve never heard it before, Farangis.” Although Arslan was smiling, it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Elam could feel him shaking from the tremor in his hands. “Thank you for sharing it with us.”

Farangis inclined her head. “It was no trouble, Arslan,” she replied in her usual monotone before rising from the armchair. “It’s getting late. You two should sleep soon.”

Elam could only gulp in fear as a response.

 

* * *

 

It had been two hours since Farangis’ story had shaken them to the core, but neither Elam nor Arslan were anywhere near asleep. In fact, Elam had almost had a heart attack when Arslan knocked on his door, only to peer in, looking ever so small, asking for company. Since then, Arslan had joined him under the covers, huddled together like they had been on the living room carpet just hours before.

Elam supposed that huddling under blankets with Arslan while holding hands was the only good thing to even come out of this, but even then, he would have rather they not _both_ be utterly terrified, thank you very much. He distinctly remembered relying upon the tree branches outside his window to climb back into his bedroom, but now they seemed ten times more ominous than they had ever been before. The shadows on his walls cast by the branches were like long, claw-like fingers, reaching out to grab at them.

“I’m scared, Elam,” Arslan whimpered beside him, burying his face into the crook of Elam’s neck. If this had been in any other situation, Elam would have gone bright red in embarrassment, but now, fear had overtaken any other emotion he was going through.

“Me too,” he whispered back. “I’ll protect you, though.” It didn’t sound quite as convincing when he was shaking as hard as Arslan was.

Arslan suddenly stilled. “Did you hear that?”

Elam furiously shook his head no, deep in denial that there was anything out of the ordinary. They didn’t have to scare themselves more than they already were. But soon enough, Elam could hear what Arslan mentioned -- the soft creaking of the floorboards, step, by step, by step by step --

The footsteps stopped. Elam could only hear his own breathing -- was Arslan holding his breath? -- and his heartbeat pounding away, blood rushing into his ears --

There was a knock on the door.

“Oh god,” Arslan squeaked, squeezing Elam’s hand tighter than ever. If Elam had been less scared, he would have complained about blood circulation, but blood circulation was the least of his fears when a ghost, or worse, was possibly at his door.

“Boys?”

Elam could have cried in relief at the sound of Farangis’ voice, but that didn’t stop his own from being achingly tight. “Mhm?”

“Are you still awake?" 

Elam was about to answer her when Arslan clamped his free, sort-of-clammy hand over his mouth. “What if she’s not the real Farangis?” he hissed, eyes gleaming with seriousness in the darkness. Elam could barely make out his lips pressed into a thin line and the furrow of his brow. “What if the ghost possessed her or something?”

Before Elam could even say anything to either of them, they heard the door open.

“Are you both here?” There it was again, unmistakably Farangis’ voice -- _or was it_ , a voice in Elam’s head suggested -- soft and calm like it always was. “I realise I probably shouldn’t have told you that story so close to bedtime. Daryun scolded me just now.” A brief pause punctuated the words, possibly to smile to herself, before she continued. “Well, either way, good night, you two.”  

“Goodnight, Farangis!” Elam’s greeting rang out just loud enough to muffle Arslan’s tiny, pleading “please just go away.” The footsteps resumed, growing fainter by the moment, until they couldn’t hear it at all.

Arslan and Elam sat together under the covers like that until the birds started to sing.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Narsus entered the kitchen to see Arslan falling asleep on Elam’s shoulder at the dining table. “Good morning,” he said, raising his eyebrows inquiringly at their equally sleepy expressions. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

“Yeah,” Elam muttered, raising one lethargic arm to scoop a spoon of instant coffee powder into his mug. “Arslan and I both.”

Arslan could only respond with a groan before flopping down on the dining table in front of him. “Mrrggghhh.”

“You certainly slept well,” Narsus commented. “How were the ghost stories?" 

At that, Elam choked on nothing, and Arslan let out what could only be described as a wail of despair.

“They were great, I take it?”

A sobbing noise greeted Narsus’ ears.

“...I shall interpret that as ‘never again’.”


	3. Insomnia (Food)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arslan and Elam both have trouble sleeping. Their solution is baking cupcakes in the dead of night.

It was 3 am, and the house smelled like yeast and berries.

Arslan and Elam knew that they should both probably see someone about this, that it definitely wasn’t normal for the younger to wake up five times during the night and the elder to be unable to sleep at all most of the time, but… well, they managed.

Mostly they managed by one gently dragging the other out of a failed attempt at rest and tiptoeing their way downstairs. Elam would pull out an old Food Network Magazine that he hadn’t quite worked his way through yet and scour for something sweet that he hadn’t tried, while Arslan sleepily watched, slumped halfway over the kitchen island. They didn't normally go back upstairs afterward, usually ending up watching TV on the couch and fully giving up on sleep when someone else came down.

That night, with what he hoped was a subtle glance back at the elder, Elam had noted a little cupcake recipe in a thick, laminated insert booklet. “Does raspberry and lemon sound alright?”

There was a little spark of life in Arslan’s exhausted eyes, as he nodded quickly. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

It took a minute for Elam to get everything out, another to set things up, and by the time that he had finished, Arslan was hovering over his shoulder. “Can I help?”

Their late-night escapades were the only time that Elam ever said yes. He was too anxious and too tired to protest, or to avoid buckling under Arslan’s puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, okay. You can get the dry ingredients together.”

The smaller nodded, a determined little look on his face as he stood on his toes to rifle through the cabinet for the measuring cup. Elam would have helped, but he wasn’t exactly much better off. Besides, it was kind of cute, how he flailed slightly to reach things… He wondered if he thought the same about him.

He shook his head slightly, at the thought. He shouldn’t be thinking like that… He focused on reading over the recipe again instead, directing the elder on exactly what to do and watching out of the corner of his eye while he get started on his own part, making sure that he did everything correctly.

“Arslan, sift the- _Sift_ the flour, please.”

The tiny white-haired boy blinked hard in an attempt to get some of the sleepiness out of his eyes and force himself to focus a bit better. He knelt down and rummaged through a cabinet for the little metal contraption, chewing on his lip all the way.

Elam felt a little tug in his chest that while not unpleasant, was certainly unwelcome. He found himself anxiously biting into his lip as he edged toward the elder, trying to hide his nerves. “You, um… need any help?”

Arslan shook his head with a soft promise of, “I’m okay!”, but Elam didn’t move away. He just watched, as the smaller stood back up and carefully ran the flour through the sifter, before delicately measuring it out, spoon by spoon, the sleepiness in his eyes never quite going away.

Elam felt his fingers twitch as he watched the slow process, wanting to guide his fingers, to put a hand on his shoulders, to wrap his arms around his waist, to _touch_ him…

Oh God, what was he thinking?

“L-looks like you know what you’re doing,” Elam managed, voice tight and all too aware of the heat suddenly filling his cheeks. “I, um… I’m gonna get to work on the wet stuff.” The last words were mumbled, as he determinedly turned back to his own bowl, suddenly achingly tense. Arslan’s tiny, “Okay,” only made his throat tighten, his hands suddenly much more aggressive against what he was working with.

He always baked when he got stressed, whether it was because of lack of sleep or overwhelming classes or… well, just restraining himself around the other boy. It showed, apparently. Whenever Narsus woke up to a new dozen or two treats, he asked the younger if he was okay… Though it never quite progressed beyond that. That was probably because the blond always had one of said treats in his mouth when he asked, a fact that always made Elam roll his eyes, but… they knew each other well enough. The elder would know if he ever really needed his help, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to say it. He always did.

At the moment though, Elam was fighting to keep his thoughts steady, focusing on things being blended together properly and not getting any eggshells into the metal bowl. Arslan was the one with the whisk, but right then, he wished that he had the motion to take his frustration out on… though that probably wouldn’t end well for the batter.

God, why did he have to feel like this?

The younger took in a deep breath, gripping the edge of the counter a touch too tightly as the mixer whirred in front of him. He just needed… to breathe. Baking was therapeutic for him, after all. It was formulaic and precise and soothing and he just needed to allow it to work its magic.

“Are you okay?” Arslan’s voice was tiny, as he looked over at the brunet. Elam cursed that of all the times for him to be observant, it had to be right then.

“I’m fine,” he promised with a weary smile, trying to make his shoulders relax a bit. Being with Arslan was relaxing too, if he were honest… As long as he wasn’t thinking about going any further than just being _near_ him.

Arslan made a tiny noise of concern in the back of his throat, but didn’t question further, and Elam was eternally grateful for just how gullible he was. When the smaller brought over his own bowl, he took it almost gratefully, carefully adding it into his own mixture in little batches. He had already set the muffin tin up, allowing him to fill up the cups easily and get them into the oven quickly. It only took him a moment to wash out the bowl with hot water, so he could get right to making the frosting as the cupcakes baked.

He barely even noticed that Arslan hadn’t said a word until he was cutting the butter into little chunks, and suddenly felt something gently begin to wrap around his waist.

A glance down confirmed that yes, those were Arslan’s pale, fragile arms, and that the smaller boy was pressing lightly against his back, his chin settling softly down on his shoulder.

Suddenly Elam couldn't breathe.

“I… W-what are you doing?” His face was burning, heart pounding in his ears, fingers gripping the knife near to the point of pain.

“You looked upset,” Arslan murmured, his voice still heavy and even softer with sleep, as he gently nuzzled into the crook of the younger’s neck. Oh God, Arslan was nuzzling him. Arslan was _nuzzling_ him. “I wanted to make you feel better… Is this okay?”

Elam choked, an embarrassing, tiny squeak leaving his throat. He shouldn't do this. He shouldn't want this; he shouldn't let this happen… but he didn't want him to move away. “Yeah. Yeah, this is okay.” He sounded like he was being strangled. He _felt_ like he was being strangled.

“Good,” Arslan murmured, back to being as oblivious as ever, much, much too conveniently. His cheek pressed gently against the crook of Elam’s neck, his touch nothing if not the sweetest, gentlest contact the younger had ever felt, and suddenly it was incredibly hard to focus on what he was supposed to be doing.

He barely finished by the time the cupcakes were done, hurrying to get the tin out of the oven and realizing belatedly that that meant that Arslan had to let go of him.

He didn't protest when he did, even if it left him feeling incredibly… cold. He swallowed thickly, pushing the thought away and focusing on setting the cupcakes on the cooling rack and getting the frosting into a pastry bag.

He hesitated, with a little glance back at Arslan. The smaller had made his way back to the island, perched on a stool but slumped over the counter with his arms splayed across the marble, looking up at the brunet with blue eyes half-open.

“Do you… wanna help me decorate?” the younger asked, his voice much too soft for himself, heartbeat seeming to nearly drown it out.

But there was that spark in his eyes again, slowly sitting up as he gave an enthusiastic little nod. A few moments later, Elam had brought the now-cool pastries and two piping bags over, carefully picking a cake up to show the elder what to do.

A few moments later, the smaller was biting his lip and intently focusing on frosting his cupcakes. They certainly weren't as neat as Elam’s, but they didn't look bad at all, and the younger allowed his thoughts to drift through as he worked on his own.

He wasn't sure when they moved so close together, or how Arslan finished his own before him. But somehow, when he finished, the smaller was pressed up against his shoulder as gently as possible, tiny fingers wrapping around his arm. “’Lam? I don't wanna go upstairs,” he murmured, his voice barely audible in a way that made Elam’s chest clench harshly.

“Do you… wanna stay down here and watch something?” Elam murmured, his voice tight to the point of pain.

Arslan thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “I just wanna talk a little… Is that okay?”

Elam nodded too quickly, though he immediately felt his head rush and the exhaustion beginning to settle back in, as the elder’s fingers slowly began to run down his arm to gently wrap around his hand. “Y-yeah, um… What did you want to talk about?”

* * *

When Narsus came downstairs, the first thing that he saw was Elam and Arslan slumped over the kitchen island, fingers laced together, a plate of cupcakes carefully set in front of them.

He had never seen them quite as intertwined before, but he couldn't stop the little smile that was tugging at lips, as he reached over them to grab a pastry. They were cute…

And it looked like they had finally found a cure for their insomnia.


End file.
